Smaug's Little Dragon
by sociallyawkwardpolarbear
Summary: This story starts off after Bard the Bowman kills Smaug the dragon, who was thought to be the last 'great' dragon in Middle Earth at the time. However, an unexpected attack occurs and the 13 dwarrow, plus Bilbo, are forced to stay in the Lonely Mountain. While there, strange fires pop up and the party realizes that Smaug might not have been the last dragon in Middle Earth...
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer** : This story wasn't just written by me. It was co-authored by my friend Arabella, so she gets half credit, if not more. The Lord of the Rings and The Hobbit both belong to J.R.R. Tolkien. We don't own anything in it. And if we did, certain people would still be alive. You know who we're talking about.

 **NOTE:** A lot of people who know LOTR have been wrong about the plural of the word 'dwarf.' According to Tolkien, the "real 'historical'" plural of dwarf is dwarrows or dwerrows. He referred to dwarves as "a piece of private bad grammar".

 **Chapter One:**

Bilbo Baggins sat in Thorin's tent as the dwarven prince slept. Bilbo had spent most of the past few days tending to the rather large hole in Thorin's stomach, caused by Azog the orc's metal claw.

As a surprise to all, Thorin healed quickly and would be fully healed in a few months. He would be able to get out of bed in a week.

As Thorin slept, Bilbo looked up at him and smiled at the sleeping Dwarven prince who would soon be king. Bilbo continued writing in his small leather journal, detailing the adventures he had gone through. He wrote of when the trolls captured them, when they were chased by wargs, and many other times in their adventure, but there was one moment he hesitated to put in, the ring.

Bilbo took it out of his pocket and stared at it as it lay in the palm of his hand. But just as he was about to put it on, Balin the dwarf opened the tent door, his white beard swinging as if he were in a hurry. Bilbo quickly stashed the ring in his pocket.

"Bilbo," Balin asked, "there was a fire in the Great Hall again. All the debris left over from Smaug's attack is lighting on fire."

"Again?" sighed Bilbo, repressing a groan. "I knew it was a bad idea to stay here. But Thorin just wouldn't say no."

"That sounds like Thorin. He is very stubborn," agreed Balin.

Bilbo still remembered what had happened. The party of of the 13 dwarrow and the Burglar-Hobbit (also known as Bilbo Baggins) had decided to stay in Smaug's cave after Smaug had been killed by Bard the Bowman. Everyone had wanted to leave the cave as soon as possible, as it was covered in rivers of molten gold, broken marble columns, and highly flammable debris. The party had been traveling away from Smaug's cave for quite a while, but then Azog the orc had attacked Thorin while they had been sleeping.

Bilbo winced. It had been brutal and bloody. The dwarrow had awoken to see a great gray lump of a face leering down at them. Thorin jumped up quickly, but not quick enough. Azog's sharp metal claw, infused with poison, had stabbed Thorin, but not before Thorin had cut Azog's head off.

Unfortunately, Thorin gradually weakened. His wound became infected, as dwarrow and hobbits are not known for being great healers. There were no safe havens anywhere nearby. However, Ori vaguely recalled an herb by the Lonely Mountain - an extremely rare one that could cure most poisons known to Middle Earth. The party traveled there as fast as they could, and with the help of the herb (they decided to crush it into his wound because they thought it wasn't a good idea to have him take it by mouth), Thorin was making a speedy recovery.

"Did you hear me, Bilbo?" Balin's voice startled Bilbo out of his thoughts.

"Oh- oh, yes," stammered the poor hobbit. "What were we talking about again?"

"The fires!" Balin cried, sounding exasperated. "It would hinder us greatly if we caught on fire. Dwarrow are not flame-resistant, contrary to whatever you may think. Then we can all search for the Arkenstone! You know that you are getting a fair share of whatever valuables we find, including anything that has not been molten."

"Right! Well, do you know the source of the fires?"

"Erm… no…" said the dwarf slowly. He stroked the tassels of his cap thoughtfully. "It may have something to do with the heat of the molten gold."

"Then clear the debris, and I'm sure the gold will have to cool down eventually. And keep gold-stirring!" 'Gold-stirring' was what the dwarves meant when they used spears or poles, made out of metal, to stir around in the rivers of molten gold (they called them rivers even though the gold did not flow). They did this in hopes of finding something that would give them clues about the mysterious fires. It had not been a success.

"Whatever you say, Bilbo." Balin ducked under a flap of the tent and left, joining the bustling crowd of dwarrow outside. During the party's stay, Bilbo was assigned the role of taking care of Thorin, mainly because he was no good at clearing any debris or working for long periods of time.

After Balin receded from view, Bilbo started at the dusty brown canvas of the tent. How he wished he were back in the Shire, in his cozy hobbit-hole, enjoying the summer afternoon as he sat in his old rocking chair, smoking a pipe or reading a book. How he wanted to eat real food instead of dry bread, or roasted little animals that the other dwarves found fit to eat. But Bilbo wanted more! Great tureens of stew and soup, or mountains of perfectly roasted turkeys with gravy, or buttered bread with marmalade, or bowls of fruit, or plates of pastries, or huge mugs of drinks! (Preferably apple-juice, as Bilbo did not drink alcohol.)

Bilbo hated it in this dark cave, where they were served only two meals a day and the food was stringy and unflavorful! Why should he even have come on the quest anyways? He could just escape, unseen, right now! Bilbo fingered the gold ring he had found in Gollum's cave. Why couldn't he just put it on right now and-

"Bilbo." Thorin's voice pulled him out of his dreadful thoughts.

"Thorin!" Bilbo exclaimed. "You're awake!" Forgetting all of his worries, he rushed to Thorin and hugged the brown-haired dwarf. "How are you feeling?"

"Oh, I'm feeling a bit better - ouch- don't squeeze my ribs so hard - yes, that's better. I think I should be able to get up and help right now." He sat up from the cushions and countless fur coats, trying to hide his wince of pain as his hand flew to his stomach.

"Not so fast!" hurried Bilbo. "You still have to rest!"

Thorin sighed and muttered something about being 'as useless as a clean-shaved dwarf.' He turned to face Bilbo and asked, "Well, how is the gold-stirring going?"

Bilbo's smile faded. "Not well," he said. "The longer we poke around in the fire, the less luck we seem to be having with finding the source." He paused for a moment "Maybe I'll have some luck, I've been sitting around all day, maybe I should be doing something useful."

Thorin's large eyebrows knitted themselves together and a crease appeared between them in worry. "Bilbo, are you sure it's safe for you to be so close to the fire? You're not a dwarf. And you may get frightened."

"I'll be fine," said Bilbo with a small smile, even though the 'frightened' comment had stung. "You're the one we should all be worried about."

"Bah," said Thorin waving a hand through the air, "I will be fine as long as there aren't any more bloody dragons, or backstabbing orcs." Bilbo gave a small chuckle at that.

"All right then, I've got to go now." Bilbo said dismissively. As he was about to exit the tent, he turned back to Thorin and shook a finger at him, "And don't think just because I'm gone, you can go and get Dwalin to help you walk to the pub." While on the way to the Lonely Mountain, the dwarrow had discovered a pub in Laketown full of two of their favorite things: food and ale! Dwalin and Thorin had visited the pub, named 'the Pig and the Hammer,' a few days ago. They had returned slightly drunk, but had sobered up quickly after Bilbo had given them a scolding and ordered Thorin back to bed. Later Bofur told Balin,"The only one who can tell a Dwarven King what to do is an angry hobbit."

Bilbo walked out of the tent into the small room where all the tents were standing. He made his way down a flight of stone steps and into the Great Hall, where the gold-stirring was taking place. A few dwarrow were already stirring the gold; some were just talking or milling about. Bilbo passed Kili, who was in the middle of complaining to Ori about the poor liquor available at Laketown (he quickly changed the subject when he noticed Bilbo, as he knew how the hobbit felt about the pub). Bilbo pretended not to listen, and tapped Fili, who was stacking a pile of poles, on the shoulder.

Fili turned around. "Ah, Bilbo, there you are. We figured you would come out of that tent some day now. You can gold-stir, if you'd like." He handed Bilbo a long metal pole, which had probably been a broken spear before. "Well, I would stay and chat, but I believe there are impending pranks in my future." And with that, Fili ran off to go dump an ice-cold bucket of water on Nori, who then proceeded to dry off and later steal Fili's beads right out of his mustache braids as he slept.

Bilbo grabbed the pole and walked over to a steaming gold river. The color of the river was true to its name, very shiny, and swirled with undertones of color. It was also extremely hot. This one was approximately 10 meters long, 3 meters wide, and four meters deep at the deepest point. Bilbo dipped his pole in and began to stir the molten gold as he and Ori talked about what it was like in their hometowns.

"All thirteen of us lived in the Grey Mountains," said Ori, his brown eyes turning distant. "You have heard this tale before, but I will tell it again. Many years ago, our dwarven city had been sacked by Smaug and everything of any value was stolen. Then Smaug killed any survivors, but he failed to kill our ancestors. We went on this quest to defeat Smaug. Now that he is dead, we can finally relax, though we still must find the Arkenstone." He sighed. "I would not admit this to Thorin, but I haven't enjoyed it here in Smaug's abandoned cave either. Bombur, you and I are the only ones who would rather live somewhere else. Bombur, of course, wishes to have more food. He swears he's gotten thinner," and they both laughed.

Bilbo told Ori all about the Shire and his beautiful hobbit-hole with the shiny green door. He explained about Gandalf's fireworks and smoking long pipes and all the food. He regaled Ori with descriptions of the rolling green hills and clear blue lakes. Eventually, it became dark in the hall. Ori left to eat supper with the rest of the dwarrow. He had left his stone pole by the bank of the gold river and had asked, "Aren't you coming, Bilbo?" But Bilbo, fearing he was being useless, had refused.

So he started stirring the gold, lost in thought. He hoped that the mysterious fires wouldn't suddenly explode up right next to him. He would be charred like the turkey at Mirabella Took's 90th birthday party. It was not a pleasant idea.

The end of Bilbo's stone pole grated the rough bottom of the gold river. And then, the pole hit something hard with a muffled _CLUNK._


	2. Chapter 2

_**MajesticLunicorn:**_ Hi! I'm glad to know that I'm not the only person in the world who's awkward! And thanks for the suggestion about my sentence lengths. This is my first fanfiction, so I'm still experimenting with my writing style, but I'll be glad to change it.

 **Chapter Two:**

Bilbo froze. The pole had hit something that sounded slightly hollow, and it was completely smooth, so it hadn't been the bottom of the river. What could it be? Bilbo had to haul the strange object up from the river.

But how would he do it? Bilbo scanned his surroundings - the part of the Great Hall floor that was untouched with molten gold, the molten gold rivers, himself, and… Ori's stone pole. Hmmm…

After many minutes of unsuccessfully using both poles as a sort of tweezers (he was unsuccessful because one pole was heavy enough by itself, let alone two), and almost falling into the river himself, Bilbo finally gripped the object and pulled it out of the river. His mouth fell open at what he saw.

He had expected the object to be round, because of how hard it had been to get a good grip, but not _this._

The object was a large, shimmering, golden stone. It was perfectly oval-shaped, but it was covered in countless forearm-length cracks that mauled its beauty. Bilbo was astounded- how could he have pulled it from the river when it was so _huge,_ almost half the size of himself!

But how could it have cracks if it was a stone? Bilbo began to doubt his original theory; maybe it was a capsule or something of the sort, filled with glorious jewels. He started looking for a lock or hatch that he could use to open the capsule, but he found nothing.

But then, another crack spread across the capsule's golden surface, and it burst into flame.

Bilbo shrieked and tripped over his own boots, running away from the flaming capsule. He knew that hobbits (or Burglar-Hobbits with a mind for adventure, as he liked to call himself) were not known for being fast beings, so it took him quite a while to run across the Great Hall, up the stairs, and into the room with all the tents, which Gloin had very originally named the Tent Room.

The poor hobbit finally stopped, completely out of breath. All of the dwarrow, even Thorin, were already there, sitting at a dinner table which Bifur, Bofur, and Bombur had built. They immediately spotted him and gathered around him, clamoring, "What's wrong? What happened?"

Bilbo bent over and put his hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath. "Weirdness," he panted, "exploding jewel-thingy!" The dwarrow looked at each other in confusion.

"Lad," said Balin, "What exactly do you mean?" Bilbo sighed and waved his arms around.

"I don't know, it was big, and gold, and it exploded! Into a ball of flame!" The dwarrow exchanged glances and then looked back at Bilbo. Ori walked over to him and led him away from the others, saying, "Come on Bilbo, let's get some tea!" He walked the hobbit towards his tent.

When they were both seated inside the tent and Ori had closed the canvas door, Ori said, "Now, Bilbo, are you feeling alright? Everyone knows that treasure doesn't explode! What you saw must have been a touch of the heat from the gold rivers; they're still hot, you know. I would recommend some of Oin's-"

" _No!_ No, thank you!" interrupted Bilbo. "I know what I saw, and it burst into flames too; that must be the source of the mysterious fires!"

"Now, now, Bilbo," said Ori, looking concerned. "Sit down on the bed and I'll bring you some water. Take deep breaths and think over what happened." Against Bilbo's frustrated protests, Ori pushed Bilbo toward the bed and left to bring him a water skin. When the dwarf ducked under the tent flap, Bilbo heard someone ask, "Is he delusional?"

Ori eventually came back in to bring Bilbo some water, but Bilbo pretended to be asleep. Finally, night crept in. Being in the heart of a cave made of stone, there wasn't exactly a difference in light, but there was no more bustling. Bilbo could hear the dwarrows' steady breathing. When he was finally sure that they were asleep, he got up from the bed (Ori had kindly slept on the floor) and tiptoed as quietly as he could (which was very quiet, as he was a hobbit). He walked to the Great Hall, where the gold rivers were still steaming.

Bilbo saw the river from before, the two long poles for gold-stirring that he had left behind, and the gold capsule (this time thankfully not on fire). But the capsule was no longer in an oval shape. Instead, it had shattered into a million pieces that could not be put together again. There was nothing else by the shards, which either meant the capsule had been empty… or whatever had been inside wasn't there anymore. Bilbo hoped it was the former.

He wanted to investigate further, but then a huge yawn escaped his lips and he decided, _tomorrow. Tomorrow I'll come back and find what happened here. I'll prove to the dwarrow that I'm not hallucinating._

Bilbo collected all of the shards that had been part of the capsule, and gathered them into a large pile. He then put the pile into a leather bag that he had hanging around his waist (it was normally meant for gathering food, but there were may uses). The bag was filled almost to the brim, and was extremely heavy. The capsule had been very large. Bilbo sneaked into his tent and hid the leather bag behind a few cloth blankets, where the dwarrow would hopefully never find it. Then sleep dragged him in with its steely claws.

When he woke up in the late morning, Bilbo could hear the dwarrows' voices, muffled by the canvas walls of his tent. He stretched and groggily opened his eyes, then remembered what had happened last night.

Bilbo opened the flap of his tent. He saw the dwarrow talking and eating at a table, not surprisingly with rude table manners. "Oh, is it elevenses already?" he wondered aloud. "I think so, because I usually have biscuits for elevenses… but Bombur and Nori are also eating scones. I only eat scones for my second breakfast! These dwarrow have strange schedules."

Then Ori greeted him. "Bilbo!" said the dwarf. "Are you feeling better? I noticed that you moved into your own tent last night as well."

"What? Oh- oh, yes. I had a bit of… a stomach-ache," Bilbo replied, saying the first thing that came to mind.

"Oh!" said Ori, "I bet Oin has something for that!" he smiled, but it quickly faded and he muttered, "although it would probably make you sicker than before…"

Bilbo didn't know what to say to that, so he said, "My stomach-ache has gone away, though. I'm feeling much better."

"I knew it had something to do with the fumes of the gold rivers! As soon as you stay away from them for a while, you'll feel better. You should probably take a break from working so it doesn't happen again." Ori turned away to go tell Nori something when he remembered, "Oh! You should go see Thorin and tell him you're better! Bofur told him about how you aren't weren't feeling well and Thorin got all nervous!" Ori paused, adopted a thoughtful expression and then looked at Bilbo, smiling brightly. "You know, it's ADORABLE how much he worries about you!"

Bilbo blushed and went to go see Thorin. Bilbo entered Thorin's tent. Thorin was hunched over a wooden table, writing something on a piece of parchment. "Thorin," asked Bilbo cocking his head, "What are you doing?" Thorin looked up in surprise and saw Bilbo, then hurriedly hid the piece of parchment under his water flask.

"Good, you've gotten better, Bilbo!" smiled Thorin. Bilbo grinned back at him, answering, "And you as well!" before he noticed the bandages around Thorin's chest. Bilbo adopted a worried expression.

"Thorin," he said nervously, "When was the last time anyone changed your bandages?" Thorin paused his writing and glanced down at the large white stip of cloth around his middle, mostly covered in furs. It was worn, and frayed at the edges and had small droplets of blood on it. Bilbo hurriedly walked over to Thorin and began fussing over him.

"Burglar," Thorin said with a small smile, using his old nickname for Bilbo, "I am fine." He frowned slightly, "but, honestly, how do you feel?"

"Oh, I feel fine!" said Bilbo, "It was just the heat getting to me!" he added to reassure Thorin.

Bilbo changed Thorin's bandage and sat with him and talked with him for a while before finally asking Thorin, "Have you - er - noticed anything strange near the gold rivers- perhaps something gold? And round?"

Thorin looked confused, then said, "You must be right. The fumes _have_ meddled your mind. Are you sure you're not hallucinating?"

"No! I mean yes, I'm not hallucinating!" yelled Bilbo, a little too loudly. "I really did see something!"

Thorin did not look convinced, but said mildly, "Well, maybe it was a rock that had been covered with gold from the river or something of the sort. The dwarrow and I will look at it in the morning. But _you_ won't be joining us, you'll be in your bed, sleeping."

Even though this was the most reasonable response, by far, given by the dwarrow ("A dead chicken covered in gold!" "Smaug's third eyeball!" "A portable chamber pot!"), Bilbo did not at all find it comforting. "Well," he said, forcing a smile, "I had better leave you alone, too."

Bilbo left the tent, and it was only after a few minutes that he wondered what Thorin had been writing on the piece of parchment.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three:**

After one more week of care, Thorin was well enough to help the other dwarrow with their gold-stirring. They had also let Bilbo help with the gold-stirring, too, but they made sure that he didn't get too close to the rivers, for they feared that he would become 'sick' again.

However, less and less dwarrow were gold-stirring because they had had no success (and hadn't listened to Bilbo). Many thought there was no point, but some believed that the Arkenstone was inside one of the rivers.

There were still many other things to be done: food to be caught or collected outside, carpentry to be built, and new furs to be made, among others. The cave was enormous, and the dwarrow were still discovering new rooms. One had been filled with a small amount of unmelted gold and jewels, which the dwarrow had joyfully celebrated, but then reluctantly traded for supplies. Another was unfortunately filled with the remains of Smaug's victims and had given Bilbo quite a fright.

Bilbo had wanted to talk more with Thorin, but he never had much of a chance. Either other dwarrow were talking to him, or he was busy working in his tent, writing furiously on pieces of parchment that he quickly hid when someone tried to look.

Another change had been made as well. The tents weren't needed anymore, because houses for the dwarrow and Bilbo had been built! The houses were small and shabby huts, only enough for one or two people (Kili and Fili shared a hut, and so did Bifur and Bofur, and also Oin and Gloin), but they were still a huge improvement. Bilbo couldn't help but notice that he himself had the smallest hut and Thorin had the biggest and the most luxurious.

Now that the houses had been built, the Lonely Mountain wasn't as busy anymore. Instead of hauling large pieces of wood or straw or nails, the dwarrow went outside and gathered food. Occasionally, they talked with the humans from Laketown, as Thorin was trying to make a treaty between the two peoples. Bilbo mostly spent time outside sitting on a small grassy hill overlooking a grove of brightly colored trees, daydreaming about the Shire. The red and gold of the autumn trees reminded him of the spectacular fireworks he got to witness in the Shire.

One day Bilbo was sitting under a large oak tree when he saw two figures in the distance. He squinted his eyes trying to see who it was. He could make out a head of blond hair and a head of black hair. Bilbo recognized them. It was Fili and Kili. Bilbo got up and walked over towards the two brothers. "Hullo!" he said, waving. The two dwarrow looked at him, surprised.

"Bilbo! There you are!" cried Kili excitedly.

"Shhh," said Fili, motioning to the younger dwarf to be quiet, "don't let Thorin hear you!" Bilbo cocked his head in confusion.

"Why can't Thorin hear you?" he asked. Fili and Kili exchanged mischievous looks and spoke.

"Should we tell him,Kili?"

"I don't know," said Fili, looking thoughtful.

" _What is it you're not telling me?_ " yelled Bilbo. He felt agitated for some reason. The gold ring in his pocket burned against his skin.

"Well," said Fili, looking a tad surprised at Bilbo's outburst,"Thorin's birthday is coming up and we need to plan a party, but…" he trailed off.

"We are absolutely horrible at planning them!" said Kili.

"Crashing them, we can do," Fili put in.

"But planning them?" said Kili.

"Nope!" said both of the dwarrow at the same time and shaking their heads in perfect synchronization.

"You want me to plan the party?" asked Bilbo.

"Yep," said the dwarrow with identical smiles.

"I'm not very good at planning parties," Bilbo sheepishly admitted.

"You'd do better than us!" said Fili clapping Bilbo on the back

"Well, I can try," said Bilbo, "but when is Thorin's birthday?"

"His birthday is on the 31st of October," explained Fili. "And it's the 3rd today, so we've got 28 days until his birthday. Come, burglar!"

Fili and Kili led Bilbo back into the tunnels and great halls of Erebor. He followed them into a room he had never been to before, into a network of twisted tunnels and small passageways. To Bilbo it felt as though the hallways would never end! But they did, and Fili and Kili led him into a large-ish room.

The room was old and covered in dust and cobwebs. It might have once been a ballroom or an extra throne room. But something was inside of the room that probably should not have been in the throne room, or even anywhere else except for on Thorin- Thorin's fur coat.

Fili and Kili had apparently thought that stealing Thorin's fur coat and tie-dyeing it rainbow colors (Bilbo could even see little images of dragons, gold coins, and various weapons) would amuse the dwarven prince. They were wrong.

As Bilbo gaped (no one was stupid enough to steal Thorin's coat, but apparently the dwarven brothers were), Kili said, "Fortunately Thorin doesn't seem angry- he doesn't even seem to notice it's gone."

They were wrong again. Fili and Kili must have either been deaf or out of Thorin's range, because Thorin had been raving about it since morning.

"So Bilbo," said Kili, "What are you gonna get for Thorin?" Bilbo paused. What was he going to get? He wracked his brain trying to think of something, and then a thought popped into his head. No way, thought Bilbo, I would die of embarrassment! Thorin would die of embarrassment! "Sooooooooooooooo," asked Kili, "Tell us!" Bilbo glanced at the begging dwarven brothers.

"Errrr," said Bilbo, "I'll tell you later." Fili and Kili sighed, but they accepted it and moved on to other things and began talking about the party rapidly.

"Dancing!" said Kili.

"Music!" yelled Fili.

"Fireworks!"

"Presents!"

"Fancy clothes!"

"CAKE!" they both yelled. Bilbo's mind was suddenly filled with images of the delicious desserts at the Shire. Strawberry cake, carrot cake, pound cake and sponge cakes, with frosting, loads of it, and cupcakes! Puddings and ice cream and PIE! All types of pie: blackberry, boysenberry, huckleberry, raspberry, peach, apple, blueberry, strawberry, apricot, cherry. Fruit crumbles and cookies! Snickerdoodles, chocolate chip, oatmeal raisin, jam- filled, powdered sugar, butterscotch! And other desserts: meringue, lemon bars, jello, tarts, gingerbread, custard, and more!

Bilbo's mouth was watering as he pictured all those beautiful desserts in his head. He didn't even notice Fili and Kili naming other party ideas because of how homesick he was. Bilbo closed his eyes and imagined he was back in the Shire. He could almost see it: the green, grassy hills with little brightly colored doors, the gardens, the smiling hobbit children. Bilbo sighed; it seemed so real, but he opened his eyes to the dimly lit underground room and the ecstatic dwarf lads.

"So, will you do it?" finished Fili.

"Wha-? Oh- of course," said Bilbo absentmindedly, not really listening to him.

"Great!" cried Kili. "You should probably get started now! We'll pull some more pranks on Thorin - er - I mean, we'll roast the buffalo that Thorin caught yesterday."

"It was already roasted," said Bilbo.

Fili decided, "Well, then, we'll… uh… we'll help with the treaty with Laketown!"

"You know Thorin wants to do that by himself and doesn't want you to get close because he knows you'll ruin it," contradicted Bilbo with a sigh.

"Erm… we'll do something else. Come, Kili! Let's head toward our tents." The dwarf brothers started walking in the exact opposite direction of the Tent Room. Bilbo, who pretended not to notice, gingerly fingered the ring in his pocket.

When Fili and Kili were out of sight, Bilbo took the ring out of his pocket. It was gold as ever. Gold…

Suddenly, Bilbo was reminded of the gold rivers. And the gold capsule! Were the pieces still there? He rushed, as fast as he could, back to the Lonely Mountain. He passed through the Great Hall and was about to continue into another room when he noticed something golden on the floor.

The hobbit froze and started walking slowly towards the gold. Was it the shards of the capsule?

But Bilbo soon got close enough to realize that it wasn't the shards. Overcome by curiosity, he stepped closer.

The gold on the floor was some sort of print or marking, but it was small, roughly about the size of Bilbo's hand. Bilbo squinted and could suddenly see strangely shaped footprints, seemingly made out the gold from the gold river instead of dust or dirt. Had the rivers cooled down enough so that the dwarrow could _step_ in the rivers?

But these weren't boot prints or even bare footprints. And the rivers were still steaming, hot as ever.

The only option was that they were tracks of an animal. And not an ordinary animal… it had to be one that could resist something as hot as fire.

Thoughts of different monsters and dangerous animals rushed through Bilbo's head. But none of them seemed to make any sense.

And then, a horrible thought came to Bilbo.

Smaug, the great red dragon, flying through the air, while molten gold glittered off him like dust.


	4. Chapter 4

**Note:** The song that everyone sings in the chapter is not mine. It was written in the Hobbit and belongs to J.R.R. Tolkien.

 **Chapter Four:**

How could it be? _How could it be?_ How could Smaug, who had been defeated by Bard the Bowman, come alive again? It wasn't possible, unless there was _another_ dragon who lived in the Lonely Mountain.

The thought struck Bilbo like lightning. There probably _was_ another dragon, undiscovered. A baby, by the looks of the small talon prints. But, even though it was a baby, its claws were still sharp and looked deadly. Bilbo tried to think about what he should do. Should he tell Thorin? No. Should he tell Balin? No. Should he tell Gandalf? Errrr.

Later that night Bilbo tossed and turned in bed. He couldn't get his mind off the gold claw prints. If there was another dragon in the mountain, wouldn't the dwarrow have noticed it?

There must have been some way for the dragon to hide… An idea struck Bilbo's brain. The dragon could have been hiding in the gold rivers! From his books, he remembered that dragons have special lungs - a bit like gills - that could could breathe through anything liquid as long as it wasn't too thick. That explained the golden capsule - it must have been the dragon's egg! And the mysterious fires - they were probably the dragon's flame. Bilbo had read somewhere that sometimes unborn dragons in their eggs became superheated and the egg burst into flame.

"I have to find this dragon and make sure it doesn't hurt anyone," Bilbo told himself. His foot still twinged painfully as he remembered stumbling away from the strange fire that had popped up next to him.

In the next few minutes, Bilbo searched for the baby dragon. He had a suspicion that it would probably be in the gold river, so he searched there with Bofur's long stone pole. He was very careful not to move it too fast. The fumes of the gold reached his nose and his head spun.

Having no luck, Bilbo felt that he should help find food or stop Kili and Fili from pranking Thorin again. With a great deal of strength, Bilbo pulled the pole out of the molten gold. It seemed strangely heavier than normal. But what he saw made his jaw drop to the floor.

There was a little baby dragon attached to the pole, completely gold from being in the river. It was about the size that the egg had been, so half the size of Bilbo. As the hobbit watched, it untangled itself from the pole and stepped off it. Even though Bilbo was a burglar, he was still a hobbit, and he shakily took a few slow steps back, ready to run at any chance of danger.

But the baby dragon didn't hurt him. In fact, it looked very thin. It opened its jaws and gave a small mewling cry. Bilbo felt a stab of pity. He wondered where its mother was. Then, Bilbo realized what had happened, Smaug, the Golden Dragon himself was the father of this poor baby dragon. Now that Bard the Bowman had killed Smaug before the egg was hatched, the little dragon had no mother and no way to survive. Guilt crept through Bilbo, and he took a step closer. He had to find some food for the dragon.

"Go into the river so no one can see you," Bilbo said to the dragon, not sure if it could understand him. Smaug had understood him, but he - no, _she_ \- had been a full-grown dragon. "Stay here. I'm going to bring you some food."

The dragon blinked its yellow eyes at him and suddenly shook itself like a dog out of the water. Gold sprayed everywhere. Its scales were red, the same as Smaug's but a little lighter colored. Bilbo sighed. "You really aren't dangerous, are you? One could say you were… a little cute." The dragon just stared at him and let out another cry.

The hobbit sighed. "Go on, get into the river until I get back." It complied and dove into a gold river, sending up another enormous splash.

Bilbo turned around and ran to the Tent Room. Fortunately, no one was there but Bombur, who was asleep in a hastily built cloth hammock by his tent.

Maybe there was food somewhere by the tents, some roasted vegetables, or a nice stew, or… No, no, no. Baby dragons weren't hobbits or dwarrow. They ate meat, not vegetables. Bilbo looked around and laughed when he spotted a slab of meat, probably part of a cow. It was laid on a platter, on the dining table. Perfect.

Bilbo walked closer to the meat. It had been cooked already and would obviously be eaten for dinner. His mouth watered, but he pushed the thoughts away. He needed to save the baby dragon!

But how would he carry it?

A few minutes later, Bilbo pushed a large wheelbarrow, filled to the top with blankets, except for the meat hidden at the bottom. It was definitely not a fine work of carpentry. The wheels were rusted, and squeaked loudly every few seconds. The hobbit winced every time he heard the noise, as Bombur was sleeping right next to him.

The wheelbarrow proved to be a problem when Bilbo reached the flight of stairs leading down from the Tent Room. He contemplated them; they were not too steep, so maybe he could still push the wheelbarrow down? However, his thoughts were interrupted when a loud screech reached his ears.

It was the baby dragon.

It had climbed out of the gold river and run up to him.

This was a problem.

Bilbo sighed again (he had been sighing a lot these days) and helplessly watched as it stumbled up the stairs clumsily. Its reddish wings were too big for its tiny body, so they flailed and dragged on the stone steps.

Finally it floundered up to the top and collapsed.

"You want the food, don't you?" asked Bilbo. The dragon gave no answer; it was breathing heavily and seemed unable to move.

Bilbo removed the blankets and laid the meat on the floor. He hoped desperately that none of the dwarrow would see him or the dragon. Dwarrow were naturally hostile against any kind of dragon, so they might try to kill it.

The dragon got up slowly, crept toward the meat, and gobbled it all up. _The poor thing almost starved to death!_ thought Bilbo.

When she finished the meat (Bilbo had found out that the dragon was a girl because her tail was forked, while the tails of males dragons had only one tip), the dragon looked at him with big adoring yellow eyes and belched up a large burst of flame. Bilbo waved away the smoke. "It's getting close to dinnertime." The poor hobbit remembered how he had taken the meat and silently braced himself for Thorin's wrath."I'll come visit you tomorrow and bring you food," said Bilbo, "But I have to go soon and so do you, little dragon. Go back to your gold river."

The dragon nodded - _nodded, she could understand him!_ \- and made her way down the steps, stumbling like an elf that had drunk one too many pints of ale. He decided to let the dragon go on her own; the Great Hall wasn't far.

Bilbo loaded the blankets back into the wheelbarrow and headed back to the tents, where he inconspicuously tucked the wheelbarrow into a corner of his tent.

At dinner, Thorin was grumpy, complaining about thieves. He and the dwarrow had immediately noticed the missing slab of meat. They had no luck finding any other animals, so they were forced to eat a light broth with vegetables.

Thorin asked, glaring at everyone seated at the table, "Who ate that cow? Was it a thief? Or was it one of you? Speak up!"

The dwarrow mumbled, "I don't know." Thorin turned his head to look at Fili and Kili, who were chewing some wild lettuce with looks of disgust, not really listening to the conversation. "You!" Thorin barked, angrier than he had been for a while.

"W-what?" asked Kili and Fili at the same time.

"I said, you! You stole our meat! You know how little food we have! I'm tired of your pranks!"

"What do you mean? We didn't steal anything!" said Kili defensively. Thorin opened his mouth to say something; a large crease had furrowed between his eyebrows, but Bilbo interrupted. "I did it," he said.

The dwarrow looked at him, eyebrows raised. " _You_ did it?" snorted Thorin. "You can barely eat a few bites, let alone some meat fit for 13 dwarrow!" His voice raised. "You're probably just covering up for _those_ two," Thorin yelled, pointing a finger at Fili and Kili, who were sitting with stunned looks on their faces. _Thorin really can get frightening when he is angry, but who knew he would get so worked up over a piece of food?_ thought Bilbo. _Something else must be bothering him._

"No, no!" stammered Bilbo. "I swear, they didn't eat it!"

"Are you saying that _you_ ate it?"

"Errm… yes." On Thorin's disbelieving look, he added, "I was hungry."

Thorin grumbled something incohesive and stabbed a chunk spinach with his dagger. Dinner was obviously going to be just broth. Vegetable broth. Bilbo could see the dwarrow making faces in disgust (they were not used to just eating vegetables, especially Bombur) and he felt a bit guilty. They had already suffered 'meat withdrawal' enough when they had gone to Rivendell and Mirkwood on the way to Erebor.

 _No!_ He chided himself. Don't feel guilty, _you were saving that dragon's life, after all._

The dwarrow all sighed at once and grumpily ladled second portions of the stew into each of their wooden bowls.

The dwarrow ate in silence with the occasional annoyed look at Fili and Kili. They obviously didn't believe that Bilbo had stolen the meat and were still blaming Fili and Kili. Then Bombur decided he really wanted meat. He slammed his fork on the table and whined, "Why can't we have any GOOD food?"

Bofur had just been about to say something to Bombur, when Bilbo interrupted him and said "Don't do that, you'll blunt your fork." That's when the Dwarrow remembered the song they had sung to Bilbo when they had first been in his company. And Fili and Kili began to sing, with the others joining in:

 _Chip the glasses and crack the plates!_

 _Blunt the knives and bend the forks!_

 _That's what Bilbo Baggins hates-_

 _Now splash the wine on every door!_

 _Cut the cloth and tread on the fat!_

 _Pour the milk on the pantry floor!_

 _Leave the bones on the bedroom mat!_

 _Smash the bottles and burn the corks!_

 _Dump the crocks in a boiling bowl;_

 _Pound them up with a thumping pole;_

 _And when you've finished, if any are whole,_

 _SEND THEM DOWN THE HALL TO ROLL!_

 _THAT'S WHAT BILBO BAGGINS HATES!_

 _SO, CAREFULLY, CAREFULLY WITH THE PLATES!_

The broth had been forgotten, and now every dwarf was singing along joyfully and stomping their feet, except Thorin, who was still sitting at the table with a grumpy expression on his face. Bilbo himself joined in with the song because he still remembered the words.

Eventually, the dwarrow started getting up off their feet. They stomped on the tables and Bilbo couldn't help laughing at Thorin's expression. The mugs and saucers rattled dangerously, but no one seemed to care. The dwarrow continued dancing and singing and laughing into the night and the buffalo incident was almost completely erased from their minds.


	5. Chapter 5

_**Mjoern:**_ Thanks for the feedback! Yeah, I agree that it was a bit weird, and I tried to fix it. I changed 'buffalo' into 'slab of meat.' I wasn't really sure how to change the 'breathing through molten gold part,' so I just wrote 'from his books, he remembered that dragons have special lungs - a bit like gills - that could could breathe through anything liquid as long as it wasn't too thick.' And about the 'deciding it is female part,' I changed it to 'females have forked tails, males don't.'

 **Chapter Five:**

The evening passed quickly and soon the dwarrow all went to bed in their tents and fell asleep. But Bilbo woke up in the middle of the night, to a strange wet feeling on his face. He opened his eyes slowly and found himself staring into the golden eyes of the young dragon, who was licking the hobbit's face. The dragon was much larger than when Bilbo had first seen it. She was now the size of a golden retriever, but fortunately she wasn't as thin as before and her ribs weren't showing anymore.

The dragon blinked her eyes expectantly as if she were looking for more meat, and licked Bilbo's face again. Bilbo's eyes widened in surprise. What was the dragon doing here!? Bilbo gently lifted the dragon off of him with much effort. He placed the little red dragon on the ground next to his bed and lit a lantern so he could see. "Now what should I call you?" Bilbo mused.

He thought hard, but then decided on 'Norin.' Looking through his books, Bilbo found that Norin meant 'fire queen.' It fit the little dragon perfectly, Bilbo thought, as newly named Norin stampeded around in Bilbo's hut and lit some hay on fire, meant for feeding any non-existent horses. Of course, Bilbo dumped the contents of his water skin on the flames before they could do any damage, but the fire left a few large scorch marks on his wooden table near his bed. Bilbo paused, sighed, and thought, _how can I cover_ these _up?_

 _CRASH!_ The sound of the wooden table, knocked over by the little dragon, falling to the floor, made Bilbo jump. He sucked in a breath, hoping the dwarrow hadn't heard, but luck was not on his side.

"You alright over there, lad?" sleepily called a dwarf from another tent.

"Or have you gone mad of eating too much lettuce?" said a second.

"What's this about lettuce?" said the first dwarf. "I don't want anymore of the stinking stuff."

"Excuse me, but lettuce is delicious!" Bilbo said, before he could stop himself.

"What did I hear? You must be going mad too!"

"Everyone SHUT YOUR TRAPS!" yelled Thorin. "Can't a dwarven prince sleep without being rudely interrupted by thoughts of lettuce?"

"Right, sorry," said Bilbo quickly. "Go back to sleep."

"I should hope so!"

"Maybe we're already sleeping," mused a dwarf, "And this is a nightmare. Lettuce, indeed."

"Shhh!"

Then all was silent.

Bilbo listened, and when he heard no more, he whispered, "Come out, Norin! Where are you?" Ar first, there was nothing. But then Bilbo saw a strange glittery kind of thing next to his bed. He walked closer and spotted a patch of air next to his bed. But it wasn't normal air. The patch was shimmering and fusing with other colors, but if Bilbo squinted, he could make out the shape of Norin. His jaw dropped open.

Norin had become almost invisible, and could camouflage herself! He had never heard of something like that before, except his ring that he had gotten from Gollum's cave! Had Smaug been able to camouflage, too? And did Norin have a ring? "Norin?" said Bilbo.

The little red dragon suddenly appeared again with a flash. Bilbo studied her. No ring in sight, so it must have just been genes or something of the sort (Bilbo couldn't care less about genetics, so he knew nothing about it). Norin's mother must have been able to camouflage as well because Smaug, her father, couldn't camouflage.

Then Bilbo wondered: where _was_ Norin's mother? Since Smaug had been killed by Bard the Bowman, Norin had had no one to take care of her. But where was the mother? Had she been killed? Or… had she been camouflaging all along, somewhere in Middle Earth as well?

"Norin," said Bilbo, "Your father was Smaug, wasn't it?"

The little dragon looked at him and nodded. Bilbo felt a pang of guilt.

"What about your mother? Do you know where she is?"

A head shake.

"She can't be here in the Lonely Mountain, we would have noticed her. She must be somewhere else." Norin perked up, her tail wagging like a dog's.

"Let's find her," concluded Bilbo, ready to be off on another adventure.


	6. Chapter 6

**_Evaline101:_** Thank you! It makes my day to hear things like this!

 ** _dojoson41:_** Well, it could happen, but you never know… we writers are evil and have many choices… Mwahahaha!

 **Chapter Six:**

Bilbo woke up, realizing he had fallen asleep for a few hours, when he heard quiet voices conversing outside his tent. He listened and could make out the husky voice of Thorin, along with Balin's slightly croaky tone.

"Have you finished it yet?" asked Balin.

"Yes. I'll take it to Thranduil and the Bard," answered Thorin.

Bilbo strained his ears, not moving a muscle so as not to let them know he was listening.

"To the Wood-Elves, as well as Laketown? Are you sure you can make it by yourself?" The white-haired dwarf sounded concerned.

Thorin laughed quietly. "Are you questioning my strength? I could kill a hundred orcs and barely feel a scratch."

Bilbo smothered a laugh. _Well, at least his ego is strong enough,_ he thought. Then he listened again.

"Alright. I suppose there's nothing I can say to stop you. But are you sure they will agree to your terms?"

"They should. I am offering something no man would turn down."

"Best of luck to you, Thorin."

The conversation was over when Bilbo heard heavy footfalls - most likely Thorin's - moving away.

Bilbo sat up in bed excitedly, pushing away the covers. Thorin was going somewhere to deliver something to Thranduil and the Bard. It was obviously important… but what was it?

Quickly the hobbit dressed, made sure that Norin was safely camouflaged on his bed, and ran outside, where half a dozen dwarrow were ladling steaming porridge into roughly carved wooden bowls. Bilbo noticed that Balin was one of the dwarrow, so he ran up to the Balin, who had just accidently drenched his beard in porridge.

"Are you… er, by any chance - will you or Thorin, I mean… um," started the hobbit.

"Excuse me?"

"Er… is Thorin going on a trip anytime soon?" At Balin's confused look, he added, "...you were talking to Thorin…"

Balin sighed, wringing out his sodden beard. "How much did you hear?"

"Well, all of it, I guess. What were you talking about? What does Thorin need to deliver?"

"I suppose you should know," said Balin. "Thranduil of the Wood-Elves and Bard the Bowman of Laketown both want a part of the treasure. The Bard wants his fair share of the gold - a fourteenth of it, to be exact. He says he needs it to rebuild Laketown after Smaug's attack."

"That's a fair point."

"It is not!" said Balin, and Bilbo remembered how dwarrow were often very possessive about gold and riches. "Smaug's treasure was rightfully ours! It was stolen from Dale!"

"Well, at least give him _some_ gold. He killed Smaug!"

The dwarf huffed. "That will be determined."

Bilbo sighed and said, "What does Thranduil want?"

Balin scoffed. "Thranduil wants the Arkenstone! He believes it belongs to the elves rather than us, which is ridiculous. My point is, Thorin wants to negotiate - which is too kind of a term for it - and give the Wood-Elves none, and the Bard, at most, one-twentieth."

"I'm coming with him."

"Don't be daft! I'm sorry Bilbo, but what use are you?"

"I can give up my share of the gold. Then the Bard and King Thranduil will each get one-fourteenth, if I'm correct. The dispute will be settled."

"Why would you do _that?"_

"Would you really want a war over this?"

Balin looked away. "If you want to come you have to get through Thorin first."

"Who says I'm going to tell him?" Without a word, Bilbo strode back to his tent to pack his stachel and bags with all the food and supplies that he would need. Norin appeared, her red body looking much healthier now that it was getting decently fed. Bilbo affectionately fed the dragon a piece of jerky from his satchel.

As soon as he thought he was done, the tent flap opened by itself and Ori walked in, holding a knitting basket. "Hullo Bilbo! I was wondering if-" Then he cut himself off. "Bilbo, where are you going?" Ori asked suspiciously.

"Er… I was… I had to… I just..."

But Ori had noticed Norin, who was partly hiding behind Bilbo, somehow too scared to camouflage.

"Is that a _dragon?"_ Ori gasped.

"Er… what dragon?" said Bilbo. The dwarf just raised his eyebrows. "I mean, _WHAT DRAGON?"_ continued Bilbo surreptitiously nudging Norin with his foot. A gasp from Ori told him that Norin had disappeared.

"I told you, there's no dragon," said a satisfied Bilbo.

Ori did not look convinced. In fact, he looked worried. "That's not just any dragon, Bilbo. He can camouflage! Do you know how dangerous that is?"

The hobbit sighed, realizing that his 'no dragon' plan wasn't going to work. "First of all, Norin is a 'she.'"

"Aaawww… Her name is Norin? That's so cute!" Ori squealed. Curling around Bilbo's ankle, Norin became visible again and grinned up at the dwarf, her tiny white teeth flashing.

Bilbo rolled his eyes and said, "And, second of all, Norin can't hurt anyone if she's not _near_ anyone. Not that she would, either."

Ori's face turned from delighted to confused to horrified in a matter of seconds. "Are-are you leaving, Bilbo?"

Bilbo sighed. "Yes," he admitted. "I'm going with Thorin to the Wood-Elves in Mirkwood, and also Bard the Bowman. Whether he likes it or not. And on the way we can help Norin find her mother!"

"Her mother?" cried Ori. "There's another one?"

"Yes," said Bilbo, surprised that the usually excited dwarf was taking this so calmly. "She can't survive without her parents to take care of her - I'm a lousy caretaker. Her father died, you see."

"Oh no," said Ori sadly. But then he realized what Bilbo had said. "You know who the father was?"

"It was Smaug."

Ori stared, dumbfounded, at the hobbit. "I didn't know!" he blurted. "Are you saying that Smaug was not only protecting his gold, but also his egg?"

Bilbo nodded. "Apparently so."

"Oh, I feel horrible!" Ori looked like he was going to cry.

"There's nothing we can do about it," said Bilbo gently. "But I want to return Norin to her mother, who is hopefully still alive. Maybe the Wood-Elves will have some clue about where she is. That's why I'm joining Thorin to make an agreement with the Wood-Elves and Laketown."

"I'm coming with you," said Ori, repeating Bilbo's words from before. "I want to go on an adventure again, and I want to return Norin to her mother!"

"How do you think Thorin will react when two other people join him on his quest?"

"I'm not useless, you know," said Ori. He ferociously tapped his knitting needles together, accidently getting them stuck in his braids. His voice turned dark. "I have _killed_ before. I mean, if giant spiders count."

"Oh, fine. Three is better than two." Ori agreed, and Norin took this time to let out a mew-like noise and try to chew on Bilbo's ankle.

"She's hungry!" Ori exclaimed.

"Yes," said Bilbo. "She has a ravenous appetite. I already fed her the meat, but there's no more and I'm not the best at hunting…"

Ori's eyes widened and his mouth formed an 'O' shape. " _You_ took the meat?" He couldn't keep out a giggle. "I was wondering what really happened, but I didn't believe you at the time!"

"Kili and Fili are innocent."

"Well, you can hardly say _that,_ but…" Ori stopped. "Why are we standing around? Shouldn't we go? And somehow convince Thorin that what we're doing is a good idea?"

And so it was established that an introverted dwarf, a burglar-hobbit, a baby dragon, and a dwarven prince went on a quest, to save the dragon's life and make peace.


	7. Chapter 7

Well, it's been quite a while since I last uploaded… I've been very busy. And I've procrastinated. But thank you to everyone who has supported the story!

 **A Few Notes:**

-The word 'Ada' is Elvish, and it means 'father.'

-'Castars' were the main type of currency in Middle-Earth (but I don't know how much they are worth in human money). 'Tharnis' were worth about ¼ of a Castar.

 **dojoson41:** Let's just say Balin won't be very happy… but Thorin can get away with anything! He is, after all, a dwarven prince. And he can be very intimidating.

 **Chapter Seven:**

It was a beautiful morning in Middle-Earth. The sun was shining, the birds were singing… and the screams of a furious dwarf echoed off the walls of Erebor.

"WHAT?" shouted Balin. His white beard looked to be at the point of tying itself up in a knot. "Not one month ago, you were stabbed in the stomach with a poisoned blade! Now you are off on another long journey without a healer?"

"Then I won't get hurt," answered Thorin. "It is simple. I can take care of myself, and I know how to treat a wound."

Balin huffed. "You are not in perfect health!"

"Mirkwood isn't far," muttered Bilbo weakly.

The normally calm dwarf shot him a dark look. "And you-"

"ENOUGH!" roared Thorin. "It is decided!"

To the surprise of Bilbo and Ori, Thorin actually hadn't argued much when Bilbo told him their plan. Maybe he secretly wanted company?

The other dwarrow, except Balin, were angry but understanding. After the initial surprise and outrage, Thorin explained that there could only be a small amount of people to do the deed. Otherwise, the elves and people of Laketown might think of it as an attack. Bilbo didn't exactly agree with Thorin's logic - it might be something more - but he didn't say anything.

They set off at noon, having packed a small amount of supplies. They headed southwest to the wood-elves, who lived at the northern edge of Mirkwood. Bilbo decided Norin was to go with them because they might be able to find her mother. Norin was safely camouflaged and walked a safe distance behind Bilbo. The hobbit checked frequently over his shoulder to make sure she was still there.

They walked for about an hour - the distance was short - and the way was relatively easy. Bilbo entertained Ori with stories of his time at the Shire. The dwarf responded enthusiastically. Thorin only grunted or said nothing at all. "I think he regrets bringing us along," whispered Ori loudly.

Thorin wondered why Bilbo kept dropping chunks of food on the path behind him, but he did not think much of it. "It's for the birds," replied Bilbo quickly when he was questioned, though it was actually for Norin.

At first, the small group had to traverse down a tight path that led to rocky hilltops, but gradually it wore down to rolling fields and green meadows. When a row of trees appeared in sight, Bilbo knew they had reached Mirkwood.

The three of them, plus Norin, remembered to stay on the path. Bilbo also found himself jumping at every little sound - the time before, they had encountered a particularly nasty bunch of spiders. Mirkwood was an ancient forest, and the branches of trees creaked like the joints of old men.

Finally they reached a river, and the river led to a clearing, which spread out to reveal the realm of the wood-elves. Even though it was one of the most beautiful buildings Bilbo had seen, with its high columns made out of gray stone and glass windows the color of sapphires, the hobbit did not have fond memories of it. He recalled barrels, orcs, and drunken elves. It was not something he wanted to go through again.

Thorin stopped Ori and Bilbo with his hand in front of their chests. "The Elvenking Thranduil rules here," he warned. "He hates dwarrow, which comes as no surprise, given our history, and he disregards hobbits. Be respectful or you may soon find yourself in a cell. And let me do the speaking."

They were spotted as soon as they came out into the open. A pair of wood-elves, presumably guards, raised the alarm with horns. They rushed toward Bilbo, Thorin, and Ori, spears pointed.

Thorin raised a hand. "We come in peace. We wish to speak to Thranduil. Privately."

"About what?" said one of the elves, scowling. He and the other guard wore traditional Wood-Elf garb - brown armor over a green cloak. A longbow was slung over one shoulder, a quiver of arrows on the other. They both had fair hair and pale skin, which was normal for Wood-Elves.

"If I told you, then it wouldn't be private, would it?"

The second guard pushed his spear point into Thorin's armored chest, before removing it and pressing it into his back. "Alright, but don't take long. We don't want the halls to reek of dwarf."

Ori looked offended, but trailed after Thorin as the dwarven prince walked into the palace. the pair of guards guided them to a chamber. Inside, a magnificent elf lounged on an intricately carved wooden throne. This was Thranduil, the ruler of the Wood-Elves.

"Well, well, well," said Thranduil, examining his nails. "The 'great dwarven prince.' Back so soon? It seemed like yesterday when you were rotting in my cells. What do you have to offer me?"

"I have come to make an agreement," answered Thorin. "You told me if you did not receive half of the gold, you would attack us and take it for yourself."

"I think I remember saying that," said Thranduil nonchalantly. "What's wrong with the elves having their share of gold?"

"You had no part in this. Smaug was found by thirteen dwarrow and one brave hobbit. We apprehended him and forced him to flee, where he was killed by the Bard of Laketown. We did all of this by ourselves, and you deserve none of the gold. At most, you will get a small share of the gold, to stop a war from being fought."

Strangely, Bilbo felt his heart swelling when he heard Thorin's small speech. But this only served to make Thranduil angry. "You-"

"Ada!" called someone, and another elf sashayed into the throne room. It was Legolas Greenleaf: an elven prince, a master bowman, and a very fabulous man. "The orcs - Bilbo? Thorin? You're here?"

Thranduil looked uncomfortable. "Legolas, stop speaking to the dwarrow. You are my son, a prince of the wood-elves, and you need to stop socializing with-"

"-How have you been?" asked Legolas ecstatically, seemingly not hearing his father. "I heard about your adventures with Smaug the Golden. It would have gone much smoother had I been there!"

"Legolas, ENOUGH!" yelled Thranduil. "I forbid you to speak to them! They are dwarves and hobbits, nasty, greedy, despicable creatures, the lot of them!"

"Oh, I'm sorry Ada," answered Legolas, cupping a hand to his ear. "I can't hear you over the sound of how fabulous I am!" And with that he flipped his blonde hair and walked elegantly out of the great elven room.

Ori and Bilbo looked at each other. Thorin raised his eyebrows, unimpressed. "You elves are very proper folk, I can tell."

Thranduil cleared his throat. "Where was I? Right, the elves deserve more of the gold. Do you not remember the fight our two races had a long time ago? We drove away the dragon that attacked Dale and took the treasure. And that dragon is, coincidentally, the same dragon that was just killed! We deserve our share!"

Thorin stepped closer to the wooden throne, glaring at Thranduil. "50,000 Castars worth of gold."

"Do you really want us to attack you and take it for ourselves?"

I think an army of dwarrow would fight better than an army of elves, though Bilbo, but he kept that to himself. But it is very unlikely that we could find enough dwarrow to help us.

"100,000 Castars," growled Thorin. "No more."

Bilbo could sense the tension in the room. He and Ori paced in their spots while watching the two men barter. A small crowd of wood-elves, including the two guards from before, were watching near the door.

"Fine," answered Thranduil, leaning back in his throne. "I expect it as soon as possible."

Thorin turned around to face Ori and Bilbo. "We should go," he said, not trying to hide the contempt in his voice from facing an arrogant elven king.


End file.
